


like to the lark at break of day arising

by drqco



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Coming Out, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Light Angst, Trans Character, Trans Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drqco/pseuds/drqco
Summary: There’s something about her. There’s something about the way her voice softens when she’s with him, the way her touch is so gentle and comforting as she cups his face, the way he believes in her wholeheartedly, that makes his mouth move before he can think.
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	like to the lark at break of day arising

**Author's Note:**

> OK LET ME PREFACE THIS BY SAYING: i'm not really a rollisi shipper 😭i ship barisi, but the idea of trans sonny coming out to amanda and having this moment with her rlly struck me and i couldn't... not write it. ALSO BC THE ROLLISI TAG IS MISSING TRANS SONNY and ill not stand for that! if i'm being honest this might be one of my fav fics i've written... and i'm transmasc myself so i also wanted to project onto him. anyway thats it hope u enjoy this thingy 
> 
> title from sonnet 29 by shakespeare (bc.. yea. sonny would describe amanda like that fs.)

“‘Manda.” 

“‘Onny.” 

“That isn’t funny.” 

“Yes it is, Sonny. Yes it is,” Sonny watches his girlfriend sprawl out onto the couch, stretching her limbs to fill the space. He carries her child in his arms, Billie, while Franny rests beside her—chewing on a chewtoy. It’s a peaceful night, Billie didn’t even cry too much. Jesse was already asleep, too. There was Amanda’s trashy TV, his spaghetti, and the promise of sleeping in (hopefully) the next morning. It’s perfect. 

Which makes it the right time to tell Amanda about his secret. But it also doesn’t make it the right time. If he tells her and it goes sour, not only does he lose his girlfriend and the little family they’ve created—but his friend. If Amanda didn’t accept him, he’s leaving. But it doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt. 

No one _really,_ knows about him being trans. His family, of course, but other than that, no one. Not even Rafael, and he basically spills his guts to that man every night they work on cases together. His family was accepting of him, even when he was young. The process was long—getting on hormones, top surgery, all the legal bits—but eventually he finished everything that needed to be done for him to feel okay with himself. He still went to therapy, he doesn’t think that’ll change in the near future, and he still misses the friendships and some of the family members he lost in the process. (It’s like grieving, his therapist told him. Some parts of him tell him that he shouldn’t—that he’s better off without them and he is, but some days he yearns for those relationships back.) 

And he did disclose it with the DA’s office and with the precinct when he used to work there, but he’s not sure if Liv knows. She hasn’t mentioned anything about it, and by God, is he grateful. 

Amanda’s a different story. 

They haven’t had sex—mostly because they were too sleepy or busy to do anything. But at the same time, they’ve been dating for almost seven months by now (officially. They’ve probably been together for years, by now). And the times Amanda had asked, Sonny turned her down. He was afraid. Afraid that this life would disappear from his grasp. And he’s worked so hard for this, waited so long, he isn’t sure if he’s ready to let go. (There’s a logical part of Sonny’s brain that’s telling him that he’s being stupid. Why wouldn’t she accept him? She loves him. He loves her. He’s a real man. His anxiety and RSD tell him otherwise.) 

He’s terrified. 

“You alright?” she calls out, dragging him out of his thoughts. She looks across him from the couch, her eyes soft and face curious. He tenses up, his grip on Billie tightening. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just gonna go put down Billie for the night,” before she could say anything, he’s off the couch, his long legs bringing him to her nursery. 

She starts to whimper in his hold, and he shushes her, going, “Shh, shh, c’mon, it’s okay,” as he lays her down to sleep. She’s so small, so tiny and vulnerable—it’s crazy how much Amanda trusts her with him. But he loves Billie and Jesse as if they were his own, and he’d do anything for them. “I should tell her tonight, I think,” he whispers quietly, gently rubbing Billie’s head. 

She whimpers in reply, moving her arms and legs slowly to get into a better position. Reaching up, he pulls the cord for her mobile—a soft lullabye lulling her to sleep. “The coming out thing never gets easier, y’know. God—if she reacts like Andrew?” 

Andrew was his ex from years ago. He was shorter than him, with dark brown eyes and even darker hair. He was kind enough, good looking enough, but when they got to bed—that’s when shit went down. Nothing too bad happened, really. But when Sonny took off his clothes and had to explain it to him, Andrew told him, “Sorry. I don’t—I think—You should’ve told me—“ He stuttered the way through. 

“Just. ‘Drew, just. Go,” is what Sonny ended up saying—his face going red and he could never meet Andrew’s eyes after that. Andrew left, a soft goodbye falling from his lips, and that was it. No more texts or calls, not even a proper breakup meeting. It fucking sucked. He’s mostly over it now, and he’s hooked up with men and women who didn’t have a problem with it, but this is different. Those men and women didn’t mean anything to him. Amanda did. 

Amanda, with her snarky attitude and teasing smile. Amanda, who knew the way he liked his coffee in the morning and the way he still doesn’t like crusts when he eats sandwiches. Amanda, who knew how to calm his anger and who knew how to navigate his sisters. She was good for him—too good, he thinks. And even though, in reality, this should be one of the more easier coming-outs he’s going to face in his life, this may be the hardest. 

He gets so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize Billie’s already passed out in her crib, her soft breaths filling the room. She seems very peaceful. He hopes she’s having nice dreams. “G’night, Billie. Not toot my own horn, but I think I could be a pretty great Dad,” he bends down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, before walking out quickly and quietly, clicking the door shut behind him. 

Sonny walks down the hallway, hands tucked in the pockets of his pajamas. He watches Amanda for a few seconds—she’s sitting up now, presumably leaving room for him. “She’s down already?” Amanda asks, reaching over to turn on the baby monitor on the coffee table. He pads closer, slotting in behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they continue to watch TV. She checks the monitor and coos. 

“You get her down so quickly. I still don’t know how you do it.” 

“‘Dad Energy,’ I think's the term.” 

“I’ve never heard that before, but I’m sure you have it,” She teases, sighing as she nestles back into his arms. The blanket keeps them warm against the blistering January nights. His own body radiates enough warmth for the two of them as well. All in all—it’s perfect. He twists the strings of his Fordham hoodie, trying to quell the ball of anxiety that’s forming in his stomach. (Curse his weak stomach.) 

“Somethin’ is wrong. You’re thinking real loud,” Amanda calls out, gently. Not reprimanding him, she’s curious. She shifts in his embrace, pulling away and pausing the TV to face him. Amanda pushes the stray grey hairs that fall in his face, and he softens to her touch. “You can tell me anythin’, you know that? Whatever’s goin’ on—I can help. I’ll try my best. Alright?” 

There’s something about her. There’s something about the way her voice softens when she’s with him, the way her touch is so gentle and comforting as she cups his face, the way he believes in her wholeheartedly, that makes his mouth move before he can think. 

“I’m transgender,” he says quietly, almost reverently. He says it in the way he says Our Father during Mass—practiced and precise, yet filled with emotion and wanting. He can’t bear to look in her eyes just yet, so he closes them, relishes in the way she seems to move closer and hold him more tightly. His breath starts to pick up—and he feels his eyes start to water. (He focuses on his environment. Her touch and her breath, her pajamas mixing with his. The soft blankets against his skin, the January wind against the window.) He doesn’t want to cry. 

“I’m a man. But—“ 

“Then there’s no ‘buts.’ You’re a man,” she replies instantly, with no hesitation. Her voice is firm and steady and sure. When he opens his eyes to look at the woman he loves, her face is painted with so much love and fierceness—yet a fond smile is upon her face. Too late for not wanting to cry. 

“Ah, shit,” Sonny gets out, before his tears are falling faster than he could wipe. It’s then, when Amanda leans forward to take him in his arms. She tucks his head against her chest and she rubs his back gently, the way he would hug her. He laughs and cries, hugging her back with much more force. “I love you for who you are. Nothing’ll change that, you hear?” she pulls away to place her hands on his shoulders, almost shaking him. “I hear,” he responds. 

Their next moments are spent in silence, with Amanda holding him gently as he lets out some more tears. He feels so relieved, so relaxed, why did he even stress out about this in the first place? ('Anxiety, RSD, this was still a ‘coming out’, and those stress you out a lot,' his brain supplies.) 

“But I just wanted to explain,” he pulls away again—and Amanda holds his hands in her own, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. He can’t meet her eyes. 

“I don’t have—I mean, at least not a proper one—a dick,” he winces, it sounds weird saying it aloud. Almost crude. “But everythin’ else is sorted out.” 

Amanda chuckles, and his breath hitches. “It doesn’t matter to me, alright? You say you’re a man, you’re a man in my eyes—and nothing, I mean nothing, can take that away from you, Sonny. I’m proud of you. Thank you for telling me,” like before, she reaches over to cup his face in her hands. Rough and calloused, but smooth against his jawline. She rubs her fingers against the stubble he’s grown there, and it feels very gender affirming. 

It’s hard to find words to describe Amanda Rollins, because you can’t place her in a box. (Physically and metaphorically, actually. Keeping Amanda Rollins in one place is an impossible task.) Words and colors meld together to create her, Sonny thinks. She’s irreplaceable. Sonny never wants to lose her. Not when he loves her and she loves him equally in return. Not when they fit like puzzle pieces, or compliment each other like red and green. 

It’s here, on her worn out couch on a cold January night, cuddled up together after Sonny has dropped one of the biggest secrets of his life, and she accepted him like it was the easiest thing in the world, that he realizes that there’s no one he’d rather have to conquer the world with. 

“You’re really fuckin’ handsome, has anyone told you that?” (Amanda has. Repeatedly. Every night. Every morning. It makes his heart swell.) She sighs and Sonny can’t help but hold her closer to him, lets her rest against his chest, a huge weight lifted off him. 

He’ll save the question for another night.

**Author's Note:**

> RSD: rejection sensitive dysphoria, yeah ofc i've written in adhd sonny move along
> 
> twt: @ENBYCARISI


End file.
